


Vanity and Violence

by AsMyWimseyTakesMe



Series: A Cat Named Winter [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Cat POV, Condescending Cat is Condescending, M/M, This is ridiculous, but lovable, unbetaed, what am I even doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-08-29 19:49:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8503075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsMyWimseyTakesMe/pseuds/AsMyWimseyTakesMe
Summary: Dangerous and pretty. Such perfect humans for Winter.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So I was working on "A Light from the Shadows" and then suddenly I was writing in Winter the cat's POV.
> 
> Yeah.
> 
> Enjoy some Winter the cat and his humans Bucky and Steve?

Winter was a very pretty cat.

He had soft, fluffy white fur that he kept neat and groomed. He had to set an example for the humans. Of course, it meant he was more noticeable, especially at night, but that just meant he had to be sneakier than everyone—and everything—else.

Which he was, of course. He was a cat. He was _the best_ cat. 

Don’t listen to that tomcat that lives in the apartment two blocks over. He let him see him steal his toy mouse _on purpose_. 

Anyway, Winter was a pretty cat, and he knew it. It meant he got all the pets, snuggles, and treats he wanted, when he was with his first human, the gentle-voiced woman that smelled of violets and metal and sickness, who had picked him up from the cold wet street and brought him home when he was just a kitten. 

It also meant he caught the eye of the Yellow Men when they invaded his territory and killed his human while she was asleep in bed. 

He hated the Yellow Men. He hated their yellow skin and strange flat faces and their needles that pinched and the cold under his fur after the needles… 

Well, that was gone. The Yellow Men were _dead_ , and he had a new name and two new humans to train up as he willed. Not that his Bright Man needed much training. He knew all the best spots to scratch and pet, and Winter even let him pet his belly; Bright Man’s hands were so _warm_ and always gentle. 

Dark Man, however… 

Well, he was a work-in-progress. Winter was wary at first, especially around the shiny arm, but really, Dark Man was just a cat himself, in some ways. Kittens, both of them, Winter thought, confused and clumsy and of course he had to talk to them like they were kittens, because everyone knew humans couldn’t understand cat language. He still scent-marked them, of course, no self-respecting cat would allow his humans to wander without a mark of ownership, but Winter was careful to respond to their sounds with the correct responses. They were slowly beginning to understand. 

He had such smart humans! 

Though he rarely scent-marked his Dark Man. Bright Man loved to snuggle with Winter, but Dark Man stayed away. At first he smelled suspicious and angry, but now, many nights later, he smelled confused and longing and a little bit sad. Winter had tried to entice him—he knew he was good at it, even the Ceiling Man petted him when he begged, though Ceiling Man smelled of dog—but his Dark Man didn’t touch him. So Winter had to get creative. 

“Fuck, what—STEVE! Get the hell in here!” 

Winter purred and stretched. Dark Man was in the doorway and growling. He was really very good at growling, certainly better than Bright Man, though not near as good as Winter. Maybe he should teach them? They did get into a lot of fights, coming home with bruises and blood. Better growling might help them scare any bad humans away, though his humans never lost. They were dangerous. 

Dangerous and pretty. Such perfect humans for Winter. 

Oh look, Bright Man was out of the wet place! Humans really ought to learn how to bathe themselves without water. Water was awful. 

“How did he move your tac vest all the way over there?” 

“How the hell should I know? He’s not even five pounds!” 

“And that fur is just like Velcro on black anything—” 

“Cripes, I’m going to have to go to tomorrow’s debrief with fucking cat hair all over my tac gear! AGAIN!” 

“At least you’ll be clean. I think it’s a small price to pay, considering all that metaphysical muck we were covered in. Fury and Coulson could have insisted on holding the briefing tonight and we’d have to stand around dripping who-knows-what all over the place.” 

“God, Strange’s villains are always so damn _creepy_ with their mumbo-jumbo and demonic powers and shit.” 

“And exploding shadow creature things.” 

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” 

Winter turned on his back and wiggled down into his makeshift bed with delight. Now everyone would know that Dark Man was his! 

“C’mon, Buck, let’s leave it. You can’t do anything about it now. Plus, we have to get up in six hours for the debrief.” 

“Hm, six hours, huh? You tired, punk?” 

“Why? Have something in mind, jerk?” 

Ugh, they were smashing faces again. Human mating rituals were so strange, but at least his humans were happy. Bright Man was pushing Dark Man into the hallway and turning out the lights. He had dropped his fake fur. Winter eyed the pile, then dismissed it. He had once tried stealing a fake fur after the Bright Man came out of the wet place, and it had been cold and damp. He had to wash his paws before he felt right again.

Winter dozed off. The muffled noises of his humans mating dance didn’t last long, and the night crept in. He could feel the moon in his bones, shivering through his fur, but he was tired. His humans had left before the sun even rose, and he got worried when he wasn’t there to make sure bad humans didn’t hurt them. He sat and waited at the window all day, even when the pigeons laughed at him. 

But his Bright Man and Dark Man were home. They were safe. He could sleep now… 

Wait. 

Winter’s eyes snapped open and he rolled over. Something was in his territory. 

Movement, by the food-place, where Dark Man had dropped the long black thing that smelled of fire and metal and what Winter knew the humans called gunpowder. His eyes tracked the intruder, shadow in shadows. It looked like a snake, but bigger than the green things in his first’s human’s garden. Still, he knew how to deal with snakes. 

Winter oozed off his perch, the fur on his back lifting and his tail puffing behind him. A growl vibrated in his chest, but Winter was sneaky, Winter was quiet, Winter was the _best_ hunter in the area. He kept silent and stalked toward the shadow-snake. It slid into the hall and Winter followed. 

It was going to his humans’ room. It reared up in front of the open door and bared long fangs and Winter leapt forward, yowling as loud as he could. 

_MY HUMANS! MINE MINE MINE!_  

Cold rushed under his skin and into his paws and Winter sank sharp, shining claws into the shadow’s back. It thrashed in silence and Winter kept howling. 

“Holy shit!” 

Dark Man was at the door and carrying a big metal claw in his shiny hand. Winter hissed at the shadow and bit down on its neck, even as Dark Man slammed his metal claw—it glowed and sent a shiver through Winter’s fur—into the shadow’s head. 

It burst apart with a screech that ricocheted in Winter’s ears. Winter landed on his paws, but his ears felt like when the Yellow Men had used the siren and it smelled like blood and he was back with the Yellow Men— 

There was a hand under his belly! He snarled and sank his teeth and claws into it. 

It was hard. 

Winter clung to the hand and blinked up at his Dark Man. 

His Dark Man was holding him! 

Bright Man was next to them, his funny round metal disk on his arm.

“One of the shadows! How—” 

“It must have hitched a ride, somehow. If it weren’t for Winter—well, that looked like one of the poisonous ones.” 

“Like the one that got Clint?” 

“Yeah. Snuck right up on him before he could blink. We probably wouldn’t have even noticed until we were halfway dead.” 

Winter’s ears still hurt and his eyes wiggled. He batted at them with a mew of complaint, and Bright Man caught his paw. 

“Hush, Winter. It’s a good thing you still had Strange’s knife, Bucky.” 

“…Strange said only magical artifacts or weapons blessed by a sorcerer could touch the shadow-things, right?” 

“Yeah, ‘cause they’re actual shadows given life or something.” 

“Then how the fuck did Winter manage to touch it?” 

Winter’s eyes finally cleared and he tried to shake his fur. It didn’t move. 

He was covered in—in—ick! He was dirty! His pretty _clean_ white fur! Winter cried in dismay, and Dark Man pulled him closer. 

“We’ll ask Strange later. Right now, we need to get the both of you clean. Take him into the bathroom, I’ll call SHIELD and deal with this mess.”

“Sir yes sir!”

“Shut it, jerk.” 

They were moving. They were going to the wet place. Winter hissed and tried to scrabble down—he could bathe himself!—but his Dark Man pulled him close and caught his paws. 

“No you don’t, cat.” His Dark Man was staring at him. He was smiling, and suddenly Winter felt something between his ears. 

His Dark Man was petting him. 

Winter sighed and collapsed against his Dark Man even as they walked into the wet place. He wouldn’t like it, but he would let his Dark Man bathe him with water, as long as he kept touching him. 

Never again, though. Even if there was another shadow to kill. He informed his Dark Man of this, but Winter knew he would have to repeat it later. Probably with claws. 

His humans. So lovely, so deadly, but so dumb.

 

**Author's Note:**

> There will likely be some more in this 'verse. I already have plans for a look at the first meeting between Steve and Winter.
> 
> But I want to finish Aragorn's chapter first!
> 
> Hopefully.
> 
> Freaking writer's block.
> 
> Also, yes, I do own cats. Two of them. My mother has another three. And yes, Winter is based mostly off my two reprobates, with a bit of Mom's thrown in.


End file.
